she will find what is lost

About a week after Maxwell’s life, I stumbled upon this image. A painting, one I had seen before but long forgotten about. An artist famous for his nativities. 

It had only been two weeks and everything was so fresh. I was crying most of the day. I was the most sad I have ever been at any point in my life. 

And so I took a screenshot of this painting and sent it to Leigh. “This is how I feel lately. I love this picture. I have to have it in my home sometime. I love it.” I looked up the artist and tried to find somewhere to purchase it, but I got distracted and that was that.

That was a Sunday evening, Mother’s Day actually. It had been an emotional day.

Three days later I received a delivery at my door. A long cylinder, a print rolled up tightly inside. It was a copy of my painting. I unrolled it and cried and cried and cried. I feel like that woman in the picture. I could close my eyes and imagine all the angels and family gone before me surrounding my soul, lifting me up in my despair. If you look closely, there is one chubby little dark haired baby tucked away in the middle of the scene.

I contacted Leigh to tell her thank you… but she hadn’t sent it to me. I called my parents. Nope, not them either. I asked Jazz if he had seen that page open on my laptop and ordered it for me as a surprise. Not him. I texted my sisters and asked if they knew anything. No one had sent it. I couldn’t figure it out.

A few days later I learned one of my closest friends from college had sent me the painting. Without knowing I had recently seen it, without knowing how much I loved it or how much I wanted a print. It just arrived. Adrienne is a special friend, someone who taught me a lot about being creative and being kind and being original. She was never afraid to be different. Some of my best memories are of my late night adventures with her. And though we don’t get to catch up very often, she was one of the first people to call me when Maxwell died. 

I have since had the print matted and framed and it hangs in my family room, across from my kitchen sink. A happy reminder of a sad, sad time and the angels both here and on the other side that surround me. 

Tender mercies.